


Lights Out

by SuburbanSun



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Drinking & Talking, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Neighbors, Non-SHIELD AU, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4927378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuburbanSun/pseuds/SuburbanSun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Leo Fitz’s best friend Jemma Simmons comes over, a power outage proves to be the ideal time for games, prank calls, and confessions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lights Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adaughterofeve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adaughterofeve/gifts).



> Written for adaughterofeve on Tumblr, who requested Fitzsimmons + “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” Next-door neighbors AU.

A sharp knock came at Leo Fitz’s door, not five minutes after the power in his apartment went off. He instantly knew it would be her.

“Coming, coming.”

“Hurry, Fitz, it’s getting cold out here!”

He opened the door to find Jemma Simmons, his next-door-neighbor and best friend, bundled up in a hoodie and a scarf. He rolled his eyes. “It’s not _that_ cold tonight.”

“It is!” she insisted as she pushed past him into his apartment. She dropped a reusable grocery bag onto his kitchen counter and proceeded to plop down onto the couch, burrowing into the cushions and pulling a throw blanket over herself. He shook his head, shut the door and began to sort the items she’d brought over in the bag.

“It’s everything that we need to eat and drink from my fridge before it goes bad,” she said as he pulled item after item out of the bag-- a carton of cream cheese, but no bagels. A jug of half-drunk orange juice. Three bell peppers. A container of lunch meat. And a handle of tequila. He furrowed his brow.

“Um, Jem? I don’t think tequila goes bad?”

She rolled her eyes from her spot on the couch. “What _else_ do we have to do ‘til the power comes back on?"

She had a point. He gathered up the cream cheese along with a pack of bagels from his pantry, the tequila, and a pair of shot glasses on his way over to her. He surreptitiously slipped the bell peppers into the garbage can as he went. _Gross_.

Three shots of tequila later, Jemma seemed to have warmed up a bit. At least, she’d unwoven the scarf from around her neck, and unzipped her hoodie enough to reveal just the top of the lacy tank she wore underneath. Fitz tried to keep his eyes a respectable distance away from her cleavage.

“When do you think the power will come back on?” she asked.

He shrugged. “This storm system’s supposed to last a few more hours. I imagine we’re stuck like this for awhile.”

Jemma pulled one knee up onto the couch, turning to face him as he poured them both another shot. “Could be worse places to end up in a storm. Could be in traffic, or at work, or on top of the Empire State building.”

“Why would you be on top of the Empire State building?” he asked with a chuckle. She grinned at him, letting her head loll against the back of his sofa.

“I don’t know. Because the love of my life asked me to meet him there at midnight?”

He felt his heart clench, just a tiny, tiny bit, and couldn’t help but let his gaze slip to the clock on his DVD player. 11:45. Not that it mattered.

“Why would he do a thing like that?” He looked down at the empty shot glass in his hand, pointedly avoiding her eyes, though he could hear her shrug against the fabric of the couch.

“Just… it might be romantic,” she said.

He was picturing Jemma in a red dress on the observation deck of the Empire State building, with a long line of meathead jocks vying for her attention as a staff member let them onto the deck one by one. In his mind, Fitz stood at the very back of the line, and the flowers he clutched in his hand were wilted in comparison to the blooming roses the other men held. Even in his mind, he couldn’t offer her everything he thought she deserved.

“Fitz?” Her voice was soft, and he finally looked up at her. She’d leaned in closer, and had a concerned look in her eyes. After a beat, he smiled.

“Jemma.”

She smiled, too. “Let’s play a game.”

Fitz glanced over at the stack of board games under his TV. “Scattergories? Maybe I can trounce you at Trivial Pursuit again this time?” He smirked at her, and she mimed a gagging motion. “I know how much you hate Monopoly--”

"--it’s more boring than _real life_ , Fitz--”

“--so I won’t even suggest that. Pictionary?”

She shook her head, sliding the foot that rested on the couch forward to nudge his knee. “How about Truth or Dare?”

Fitz chuckled again. “Don’t we know everything about each other? Are you trying to get me to run up and down the hall in my underwear? I think 6B might get a bit cross at that.”

“I think 6B might quite like that, actually,” Jemma said with a raised brow. “And I don’t know. Is six years long enough to know _quite_ everything about a person?”

 _No_ , Fitz’s mind said. “Maybe?” his mouth said.

“Truth or dare, Fitz?”

He closed his eyes for a moment as he thought about which might be the safer choice. “Dare.”

“Hmm…” She pulled her other leg up onto the couch, sitting with her knees bent and tucking both feet underneath Fitz’s leg. “I dare you to call Skye, pretend to be her boss, and tell her this power outage was her fault.”

Fitz shot a glance at where her feet were hidden beneath his plaid pajama pants, but she just shrugged at him. “Might be true, after all,” he said. “Her latest project requires her to spend a lot of time on the city mainframe.”

“Bonus points if you tell her she has to go in early tomorrow to fix it,” Jemma said as Fitz picked his phone up from the coffee table. Quirking an eyebrow, he quickly tapped out a code that would block his number, then called their friend, putting on his best American accent and telling her that she’d need to arrive at work at the power company at 6 a.m. the following day.

By the end of the call, Jemma could barely stifle her giggles with one hand pressed to her mouth. Fitz narrowed his eyes at her. “That was _mean_ , Simmons.”

She gaped at him. “Was not!”

“Was too.”

“But it actually _might_ have been her fault! Our friend _works for the power company_!”

He grinned at her, reaching down to grasp one of her ankles and giving it a quick squeeze. “You’re _mean_.”

“Am not!”

“Truth or dare, meanie?”

She wiggled her toes beneath his leg. “Which would a nice person say? Truth, I think. Truth.”

 _Will you go on a real date with me?_ he thought. His mouth opened, but he would never, ever say it. Instead, he said: “Think we need more tequila?”

She nodded solemnly. “I would hate for the tequila to spoil.”

He poured them two more shots, which they downed in unison. After she made her traditional tequila face-- scrunched nose, tongue stuck out, followed by a quick shimmy of her shoulders-- she said it again.

“Truth.” Then she thought about it for a moment. “Unless that _was_ your question? In which case, I’m happy to make you jog naked around the building. The rain is good for the skin, I’ve heard.”

“Ha ha, Simmons. You’ll do no such thing.” Was he slurring his words a bit? He wouldn’t be surprised if he was. Nevertheless, he poured them each another shot. The bottle was large, and the night was long, after all.

“So truth,” she said after taking the shot. “Truth, truth, truth!”

He squinted at her, appreciating the way she’d relaxed in his presence. She rested her head against the back of the couch and had leaned back a bit against the armrest, feet tucked up under him even more firmly now. When she noticed him watching her, her grin widened unselfconsciously. “Ask me something _good_ ,” she murmured.

Something good, eh? His mind was swimming, and it was 90% because of the tequila shots he’d downed since she’d come over, but also because of her presence. He realized he’d never moved his hand from where it rested on the back of her ankle, and he’d begun to rub his thumb absentmindedly up and down her Achilles’ heel.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “Tell me something true.” He scraped his blunt fingernails against the knot of her ankle, and smirked at her. “Something good.”

She didn’t smirk back, or roll her eyes like he expected. She stared up at him with her brown eyes and snuggled her head a bit further into his couch cushion, sucking in a deep breath and then letting it out again before licking her lips and speaking.

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

The air, the sound, it was all gone from the room. Fitz didn’t blink, just stared down at her, hand paralyzed on her ankle. After a moment, he began to breathe again, but stiltedly.

“Why?” he finally muttered.

“Because you’re my best friend in the world,” she said softly, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

“No, I mean…. why?”

She let out a short huff of a laugh. “Because you’re Fitz?”

“But you’re Jemma.” He felt like his heart had entered a footrace, and he watched her, wide-eyed, as she smiled softly.

“Exactly.”

Jemma took in a breath, then pulled her feet out from beneath his leg, straightening up to sit on her knees on the couch. She bit her lip, and he wanted to move, do something, do anything, but he felt frozen in place. Instead, he watched as she crawled forward until her face hovered right in front of his, then stopped.

When he finally did feel like he regained control of his limbs, he couldn’t help but reach up with one thumb to smooth out the worried crease between her eyebrows. That must have been all the encouragement she needed. The corners of her lips quirked upwards, and moments later her lips were on his, her hand sliding to cup his jaw. He kissed her back, wondering if he’d ever gotten anything else he’d wanted so badly in his life.

After a time that seemed simultaneously too brief and forever, she pulled back, biting her lip. He took in a deep, calming breath.

“Jemma?”

“Yeah?”

He tried to put everything he felt into his gaze, though he suspected he’d come up short. “Don’t be scared.”

After a moment, she grinned, sliding her hand back into his hair and scratching gently at his scalp. “I’m not, anymore,” she said. As she leaned in to kiss him again, in the dark of his living room amid the streetlight glow, neither was he.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Want to hang out on Tumblr? I'm unbreakablejemmasimmons there!


End file.
